As Old As The Breeze
by Yoshikuni Hatsuhara
Summary: This is a story that I have done on the popular game, "Assassin's Creed" by Ubisoft. I have taken it into my own hands to go ahead and create a bit of a storyline with historical events that occured in Japan's Revolution into the Meiji Period. Enjoy!
1. The Ambush

_As Old As the Breeze…_

**"The Ambush"**

Wind, gusting and swift blew throughout the valley, billowing through the eaves and the branches of the large maple trunked behemoths that lay scattered in an organized chaotic fashion throughout the plains. Springtime, the season left a familiar lingering odor in the wind and the breeze, one that never distanced itself from the list of favorite fragrances of one such individual whom sat beneath the largest and most majestic maple of them all, the 100 year-old tree. The tree stood at least a story and a half tall if not more, the wind gusted and blew as hard and as forcefully as it possibly could, but it did no more than disturb the towering giant in the swaying of a few branches and the detachment of couple of stem of leaf that once had been attached to the Godly tree. The year was 1867; the Tokugawa-Shogunate rule had lasted for over 250 years and there was finally a year of peace … They had crowned the Emperor Meiji in an official coronation and the era of peace was to begin. He did not really care all that much however on the topic of which name was used to describe the Era of Peace, mostly peace anyways, that had been raised from the chaos and bloodshed of the revolution so many moons ago … Ah yes. Now the fragrances and the wonderful nature of spring, were sideswiped from his thoughts, the only thing that filled them now was the screaming, the blood, the stench and the visions of horrific crimes, which had been both witnessed and committed by the one beneath the maple tree. Like a song of death, the notes discordantly made their progressions throughout his head, he bade them stop, begged them to disappear, but they simply lingered further, longer and in more detail, in a sort of sick and disgustingly cruel mockery of his inability to cast away the horrors of his life before this. A long sigh was all that emanated from the man, indicating both relief and pain in regards to the thoughts finally leaving him, for the time being and at the remembrance and reminder that he was no more than a killer … A killer through and through, the old saying goes, 'You can't teach an old dog new tricks' and the saying that went in such a manner was nothing more than a complete and true fact. His apparel even gave some indication as to what his nature and his profession were, the white and beautifully ornate robes of which melded into intricate patterns of scarlet red and a rich deep brassy gold with the snow-white pigment that acted as a base coloring would have some guessing that he was an emperor or a noble at first, but they could only estimate further from the truth; He was no Emperor, no noble of any kind, not even an official of the government nor the old regime under the forceful rule of the Tokugawa-Shogunate and Bakufu. He was of the order and of the group(s) that fought long and grueling battles of both wit and skill of blade against such a 'wonderful' and 'good intentioned' foe. Perhaps if the eye or both of the eyes of another gazed upon the man's apparel, perhaps they would recognize the subtle decorations that indeed revealed his guise; the symbol of brass and gold tone which lay at the midsection of the man's waistline, a belt or fastening with an intricately woven metallurgy of craftsmanship which bore a single letter, an "A". The letter was nothing more than symbolic in two respects, one of which was the symbolism of the wearer's pride and dedication to his faction and the other being the fearlessness that he threw into the face of suspicion and the face of death, it was all a matter of deep, loyal and undying pride; he was an assassin, no mere killer mind you, but an assassin … A tracker, a thief, a trickster, a blender, a shadow, a whisper in the ever constantly flowing current of a breeze in the mid-day of spring, a tactician, an engineer, a mathematician, a scholar, a teacher and a man who would appear as any other walking down a dirt trodden path of which bore the footprints of thousands as they trudged endlessly and stupidly, without knowledge that a simple flick of a wrist would have the crimson essence that flowed with such grace through the blue tubular veins of their neck and entire body spilling unto the path before them … He was an assassin, cold and efficient, but he did not kill for the glory or the enjoyment. To be quite truthful, the man absolutely despised the smell and the taste of blood, whether it be his own or the blood and life of another … He despised it.

"Konnichiwa, Yoshikuni-San!" cheerful and glee-ridden was the voice that rang out above the overcasting shadowing thoughts of his past and the singing, chirping buzz of the cicadas in the branches and blades of grass around him. With a slow and gentle turning of his head to the left, the man that the voice had addressed as Yoshikuni bore a slight smirk on his lips, the right side of his mouth exaggerating and boasting a larger dimple than the other side of his half-hidden face; The woman who had called to him was Hayashi, a beautiful girl and woman of which Yoshikuni had the pleasure of growing up with and spending the full of his 19 years so far with her. There was not a sight nor a sound from her that did not make him smile or make him feel the sweet and loving joy that only that of one which holds the secret love of another's heart can bring, it was also her eyes … Oh, by the name of the Buddha himself, she was by far the most beautifully gifted woman on the face of Japan and the entire expanse of the world with regards to the deep and shimmering blue pools which held a resemblance to the shining and crystalline grace of a glacier in the far north of the world.

A small puff of air, considered to be a chuckle for his standards, Yoshikuni stood and bowed his head, leaning forward with his torso to further exaggerate and exemplify his respect and acknowledgement that she was in his presence, "Konnichiwa, Hayashi-Dono … What brings you here on such an early hour?" he asked with a surprisingly soft and gentle tone, which he did use to speak to all that he engaged in conversation with, it was surprising in the sense that an assassin would be thought to have a very demanding and assertive voicing, but he defied those stereotypes with the gentle and warm coo of his voice.

With a few more steps closer she stood now only a few feet in front of him, with the bow of his head and the dip of his form it almost brought Yoshikuni's head to that of her stomach. With a sweet and slightly playful giggle, the young girl, only the age of 17 stood before the man she had come to revere and admire as they had grown with each other through the years, her lips parted and she responded to his question with an equal grace and softness to her melodic vocal speech, "Yoshikuni-San, you know that I always come to see you in the morning … And plus …" she said, trailing off a bit to lift up his chin with her finger, giving a waggle of her head slightly back and forth she continued, "It is only 6:30 in the morning. How many times must I tell Yoshikuni-San not to treat me like I am of the nobility that is the Emperor?" her giggle had now turned to a soft chuckle, her eyes gazed beneath the cowl of his hood and deeper into his own, she could see them despite the wish that he had wished to hide them with the silken arrow-head shape of his overcasting cowling of hood.

His face and mostly his cheeks, lined and flushed with a red tone that bore resemblance to a dark red rose's petal, the smirk had faded and was replaced with the upward curve of lips and the chuckle that suggested his embarrassment towards the fact that she had placed her digit beneath his chin, though he enjoyed the soft touch of it nevertheless.

"This … This one does not recall such a thing being spoken, though, the Emperor would be more than blessed to have a daughter with the beauty of Hayashi-Dono." he returned the remark and the slight sense of a flirtation lingered and hung about the edge of his tone, though he could not help it … for such a man as he, cold, true and deadly in the art of killing, he felt the skip of a pulse and of a beat in his hearts regular rate of beating every time he saw her face…Saw her hair, long and black and luscious as it bounced about with each petite and elegant step that she took in her desired direction. The other thing that Yoshikuni admired so much about Hayashi was the ability she had to pick any sort of Kimono and look stunning in it, to have the rays of the sun or the shining light of the moon reflect and exemplify the beauty that she was. In other words, Yoshikuni found her to be the epitome and physical manifestation of perfection.

It was 6:45am now, the sun was beginning to rise higher and higher, to the point of which it peeked over the face of Mount Hei, an ancient and powerful work of stone, dirt and earth that had risen and formed the great giant of Kyoto's natural attraction. During the festival people came from all over Japan, even from Kansai to enjoy the marvelous wonder that was Mount Hei, but also, to partake in the festivities of which Kyoto was also famous for. Hayashi noticed the subtleness of Yoshikuni's gaze as it fell upon her and she hid her face in fear that if she did not he would see the immense blush that she held within her cheeks.

"Oh, stop it Yoshikuni-San!" she said with a giggle, she had tried her best to sound upset but she wasn't very good at it, that giggle always drew from her lips when she spoke to him. Hayashi had been fortunate, she had the nicest set of parents that any teenage girl in Japan could ever hope to have, most girls had to marry at the will and beckoning of their father and the father of a family that they wished to befriend. She was glad that they had given her the freedom and choice to wed who she wished, and she was having thoughts, only thoughts mind you … Of the possibility of her and Yoshikuni perhaps one day being wed … Or even just being around him for the rest of her days and his as well made her happy. She expressed this happiness with a soft and gentle sigh, a smile forming on her lips as she stared blankly into his hooded gaze, she didn't notice that she was gawking but he certainly did.

What she was staring at, he wasn't quite sure, but Yoshikuni thought it best to probably wake her from whatever daydream was floating about in her head, "Hayashi-Dono?" he said, softly at first before repeating himself, a little louder than the first time. "Hello? Hayashi-Dono! It is almost time for morning tea down in the glade." he couldn't help but chuckle at her, she was quite enjoyable to be around, and she brought him a joy he had never felt before. He was not at all oblivious to the fact that Hayashi entertained thoughts and wishes to be with him in the latter parts of their lives, and not to say that he didn't entertain the same thoughts as well … But one had to be realistic, more importantly, HE had to be realistic.

'An assassin…Is better left in the shadows…' the thought rang through his head like a bell that had been struck by a hammer. It was the truth, he thought now of the memories of old yet again, his gaze cast downwards as a result and his mind void and blank of his surroundings. The blood, the screaming, it was all there in a flash, this time the visions were twice as vivid and he felt his knee's nearly give in on him. He tried to steady himself by leaning against the tree with his palm, although it was more of a stagger that he performed than a lean into it, nearly tumbling into the tree.

Hayashi's face changed, the smile slowly faded and she slowly cocked her head, maybe she had embarrassed herself and maybe he didn't feel the same. With a misled but unhappy sigh she looked to the pendant around her chest that Yoshikuni had given her when she was but 5 years, him 7. The silver and smooth casing was in the shape of an oval, more of an elliptical fashion than that of an oval actually; inside were the contents of a poem, a poem that he himself had written only at that young age. It was the first instance of which Hayashi had begun to feel deeper feelings for Yoshikuni, at first it was nothing as serious and long-term as the feelings and thoughts that she housed within her mind now, but she always had admired him, revered him, adored him … Like a younger sibling always wanting to be as wise or as skilled as their older sibling(s). She heard a sound that brought her gaze from the pendant back up to him, it was the sound of his forearm guard smacking against the tree, she gasped and rushed forwards, making sure to catch him, just in case he did fall. With her palm, at least twice as small as his own she placed it against his chest, her right palm that is, the left moved in to intercept his arm that was free of the tree, tightly clasping his hand. With a soft sigh she smiled and was glad that he didn't fall, "Yoshikuni-San, what would you do without me?" she said with a chuckle, helping him to stand up straight, she didn't know that it was simply the wrongs and doings of his past demons that haunted him, not the affectionate nature that she had towards him.

Unable to help but blush again at her face, staring into her eyes for a moment as she held his hand, should he tell her the thoughts, the horrors and nightmares that ran a constant marathon of remembrance throughout his mind? He was at a standstill … He wasn't sure how she might take it, even if she did know he was an assassin. After a long few minutes of staring into another's eyes, he finally chuckled, the blush fading and his warm, familiar smile returning to his face.

"Come, Hayashi-Dono, let us go and gather the herbs for the tea yes?" he said and gave her hand a soft squeeze, like he always did when he held it.

She nodded and returned the smile that he gave to her, beaming with happiness and the cheery attitude that put the little bounce in her steps had returned to her. "Yes … Yes, let us go and do that, Yoshikuni-San …" she said, trailing off at the end as she returned the tender squeeze of his slightly larger hand. 'He has such small hands for an assassin …' she thought, and smiled to herself as she thought it, leading him on towards the small dip that led to the glade in which they gathered the ingredients for the tea.

The base of Mount Hei was the spot where the glade produced the best tea in almost the entire Kansai region and it was all because of the herbs that grew at the base of the magnificent mountain. It was here, for more than 1000 years, that the people of what is now and always had been Japan, gathered the herbs, making sure to never take too much so that they would always return, so that there would always be tea. Another perk was that since the start of the Meiji Era, the trading ports in Yokohama had increased the demand of tea from Kyoto, Osaka, and Edo, which is now Tokyo.

The couple walked down the valley, towards the spot that they had both taken the time to memorize, it was their own special gathering spot, not even Yoshikuni's assassin comrades had knowledge of where he and his 'lovebird' as they called her, gathered their herbs from. He was still holding onto her hand, letting the soft press of the grass beneath their sandals be the only sound that they heard, not including the continuous chirping of the jay's and the larks of which Japan housed with pride in their great island. They would be only another five or so minutes from the spot and the sky above them was as any other spring day's sky, blue, serene, and cloudless … The makings of yet another perfect day, or … So it seemed … Trouble, always lurking where the heart so pure and trustingly foolish and naïve, would least expect it to hide. Suddenly, a disturbance in the air, a slice of wind, splitting the very bond of which held the matter between the two particles of an atom together, had Yoshikuni's eyes widening with the realization that this was about to get very, very complicated … And it was going to get complicated very, very fast. Hayashi hadn't noticed anything but she soon realized that something was wrong as her gaze widened slightly, in synchronization with the slow and fearful turning of her head towards his, "Yoshikuni-San …? W-What is going-!" she was cut off mid-speech by the dismissing and silencing movement of his free hand and appendage, the finger of which belonged to the index joint of his knuckle, pressed swiftly, yet gently to her curvatures of the mouth, indicating he wished to have silence.

Yoshikuni stepped in front of her, drawing the blade of ebony and silver alloy that had rested peacefully in its blood-stained sheath, waiting patiently for the time of which its master bade it from its slumber, and that moment happened to be right now.

"Show yourself, heathen! This one would rather not have to make too much of a mess in front of the lady, so make this easy!" different from before he called out with a barking and demanding tone, his grip tightening the hilt of his death delivering crescent shaped tool.

Hayashi gasped and squeezed his hand tightly again, pressing up behind Yoshikuni, she wasn't used to the sight of blood … She had never seen anyone killed before and she wasn't sure if she was able to harbor the thought, "Y-Yoshikuni-San …? What is going on …?" her voice was nothing more than a quiet and frightened whimper as she pressed tighter to his back, her chin overhanging his shoulder blade.

"Hayashi-Dono, please stay ba- …!" cutting off his speech he suddenly threw her to the ground and took a leap, landing in a curling position above her surprised and confused form, his back arched to keep the debris from hitting her. Suddenly, following his rather strange actions a large explosion blew through the valley, silencing the song of the birds and the buzz of the bee's, finishing off the spectacle was an enormous amount of dirt and of stones that flew in all directions, a few of such things slammed and pierced through the back of his robe, continuing to break the layer of his skin which had small trickling lines of his blood dripping down his backside, lightly seeping through and coloring the robe's white purity with the unnatural and sickly blood red.

A silence lingered about in the valley and the atmosphere while the misty brown haze of small particles of soil fluttered and drifted towards the ground. Hayashi's eyes lined with the threatening crystalline droplets of tears.

"Yoshikuni … Yoshikuni, you're hurt! Oh my … You're hurt and it is my fault …" she said, her voice cracked and she was unable to hold the tears back any longer, they flowed from her eyes, staining her cheeks with the running lines of her emotion.

All that Yoshikuni did was chuckle and slowly rise, turning to face the outline and shadow of a figure standing about 35-40 feet away … It was a man, hooded cloak donned his face and masked his identity, much like that of Yoshikuni himself, although the man guised himself to the basic apparel of an assassin, it would not fool Yoshikuni … Finally he parted his lips, allowing the words to flow and run off the edge of his lips, "This one is fine, Hayashi-Dono …" he said "Ti's but a scratch … And a reason for this one to get some answers, whether they be obtained with ease …" his smile faded as did his words and he glared at the other from beneath the cowl of his hood, his robes in were a bit dirty and tattered from the previous explosion. "… Or whether they must be obtained with … Persuasion … They will be obtained." finishing the speech, Yoshikuni swiftly brought the blade to a parallel position above his head, the sharpened edge of the crescent shaped steel, the dull edge curved downwards slightly and laid in line with the bridge of his nose; an ancient sword style stance, the tip of which gleamed in the light of the sun was aimed at the strange man's head, specifically, his forehead.

The only presentable problem in the scheme of things was the distance that lay between Yoshikuni and the target, a whole approximate 45 feet. Yoshikuni scowled silently beneath the cowl of his hood, he knew just as well as his opponent that he could not hit him from this distance. Seeming to sense this, the man opposing him smirked and let out a howling laugh.

"It seems that our little assassin cannot put himself in a strategically advantageous position!" the man said with a wider smirk. "Is that not what the teachings of an assassin have always been?" the man said mockery and taunt was clear evidence in his tone of voice.

With a sigh and a silent curse, Yoshikuni studied his opponent for the first time in full detail, ignoring the throbbing and searing pain from his backside. The man was large, at least six feet and five inches tall, heavily muscled. That would pose a problem in close combat, what Yoshikuni lacked in strength he made up for in skill of blade, although, Yoshikuni could not see a single hint of a sword on any part of the man's strange attire. He looked somewhat like a mock imitation of an assassin, what with the hood and all, but his outfit … It definitely was not from Japan, too modernized and strange. Yoshikuni abandoned his thoughts with a sudden realization, that the entire time he had been staring his opponent down he had not taken care to see if Hayashi was alright.

"Hayashi-Dono!" he cried with a slight panic as he quickly whipped his head around to the right, still keeping his blade poised and aimed at the stranger's forehead.

"I am alright Yoshikuni-San … I'm just … Frightened …" she was doing her best to sound alright but she knew that her tone was shaky and weak. She just hoped that he did not lose too much focus on his battle because of her, worse she hoped that he did not die because of her.

With a nod and a slow turn of his head to face the opponent once more, Yoshikuni steeled himself. He would have to kill this man, the creed be damned. He had openly threatened the life of an innocent and showed his will to do harm. For those actions alone, he must die. Surprise and shock overtook Yoshikuni when his eyes gazed upon the nothingness and the emptiness that swept the valley, the only thing present other than him and Hayashi was the swirling and slowly dissipating tendrils of smoke that spiraled upwards into the air from the bombs. Yoshikuni knew that the man was no longer in the valley because he could not feel the presence that he had felt moments before the attack. So what had his purpose been? Who was he and … What did he want with Yoshikuni? All the thoughts came in a rush and they ended when reality gripped him once more from the touch of fingers to his shoulders.

"Are you alright, Yoshikuni-San?" asked Hayashi in a gentle tone as she stepped closer to him, pressing herself gently against his backside, her chin lightly resting upon his shoulder.

Yoshikuni paused and slowly sheathed his sword, following the action with a gentle nod as one of his hands found hers. "Yes. This one is alright. Are you hurt?"

She smiled faintly and shook her head, taking the step closer until she fully had her torso up against his back, she felt safe with him close. "No, not a scratch, thanks to you. But you're hurt, Yoshikuni-San, we should take you to my father, he knows medicine quite well." she said and smiled in full this time, gently tugging him along the path through the valley back to her house.


	2. Behind Closed Doors

**Behind Closed Doors**

Three loud knocks, like the marching steps of the entire Shogun's army came to the door of the inn, disturbing not only the owner but all of his patrons as well.

"All right," grumbled the elderly inn-keeper as he hobbled on his cane to the door. "Keep your Kimono on, I am here!" said the inn-keeper.

To the inn-keepers shock and surprise there stood a man, a very, very tall man … He had to be at least seven feet tall and if he was not then may the Buddha have mercy on everyone and anyone to ever get in the man's way. About to ask where he was from and why, the inn-keeper slowly and cautiously stepped towards the man but he was greeted with a piece of parchment that bore nothing more than a symbol; a large red cross that matched the one on the large man's chest. It was only now that the old man realized he was dealing with trouble. The man before him was not only very large and very tall … But he was dressed in a strange sort of samurai garb that matched the armor from the old days of the samurai. The only alteration that the man's eye could spot was the number of perfectly placed and drawn crosses, an order of rebels perhaps … The inn-keeper wasn't entirely sure but he found the courage to shake the cane in as furious a manner as he dared to the behemoth before him.

"You bear the mark of trouble on your chest," the inn-keeper pointed out. "You may not stay any longer! Leave now before I call the Shinsengumi on you!" now the old man threatened him openly and he even held up his cane in a defensive sort of manner, indicating he was not going to let the large one walk all over him.

The larger man simply grinned and without another word he had already drawn a blade of which was hidden behind his overly large frame, concealed in the under-armor of his mid-back. No faster had the man started the conversation of sorts with the inn-keeper than did he end it.

A scream from within confirmed the possibility of more inside, probably patrons and the family of the old man, surmised the armored one. He stood there for a moment as the wife of the inn-keeper fled up the stairs as fast as she could and he pondered on what to do. This was the specific location that his master wished for their headquarters to be … It was ideal and not close to any Shinsengumi or rebels for that matter … And plus … His blade's thirst for blood had not yet been slaked for the evening. Slowly and menacingly he strode to the stairs, leaving a long trail of innocent blood across the floor.

It would only take him five minutes before the armored man who killed the inn-keeper returned, his entire body now covered in the filthy splotches and splatters of blood that was not his own, the blood of innocents.

"Get in here you maggots!" the man said rather abruptly in a very loud and definite tone. No later than a few seconds after the man had called out the door had five men all dressed in dark matte black ninja suits. They're faces were completely shrouded by the shadows of the night and by the shadows of their masks, the only part of them that was not covered by black and dark fabric(s) was their eyes, tiny knotholes marked the pairs of grey and clouded pools on each of the five men in their black masks.

They all formed a line in a rather quick fashion, obviously subordinate ninja's of some kind they showed no disrespect in any manner to the large one before them in the armor. After he had so callously killed the entire population inside of the inn, what would stop him from killing any of them should they anger him? It was that fact alone that kept them in line and silent.

" … Where is Kondo-San," the larger man ordered. "… Well!" he ordered once more, obviously dissatisfied at the lack of response between his orders.

The men in the line grew tense and stiffened their posture, afraid that the blade would soon become lodged in their throats or elsewhere. One of the five who bore a red sash along his waistline timidly and slowly stepped a few steps forward from the line. He was at least three two and a half heads shorter than the armor-clad giant and he took a silent gulp before giving his report.

"Well … Y-You see, Ishida-Sama …" he paused and rubbed the back of his head, trying to find the right words to tell his superior. He cleared his throat, returned his sweating palm to the side of his thigh and he continued again. "Ishida-Sama, Kondo-Sama sort of went against orders. The Owl Clan," the man took a moment to extend his hand in a slow sweeping motion to the men behind him before finishing his report, "Saw him fooling around in the glade below Mount Hiei with an assassin. Why, we do not yet und-"

The man in the samurai armor suddenly lunged forward and with his free hand he gripped the man's throat with an iron grip, hoisting him high into the air with little to no effort, though his fingers were only a few moments away from crushing the man's windpipe.

"… An assassin you say," he said with the slightest hint of curiosity. Though the others could not see it, he was smiling behind his mask. "Now tell me … If there really was an assassin … Our most hated adversaries … Why. Did. You. Not. Pursue?" the smile had faded and he tightened his death-grip on the man's small throat.

The man choked out a sound that was hard to even describe, then with his eyes rolling back into the furthest reaches of his head, his body went lifeless and limp; this only enraged the large brute in the armour, causing his rage to be taken out on the man's corpse. He roared with bestial vigor before hurling the man into the side of the wall to his right, producing a grotesque snapping of bones and a thudding noise mixed in with the sound of a bloodied pulp coming into contact with a hard surface.

He did nothing but spit at the man, then, Ishida turned around to face the others of which were cowering and holding their hands over their eye-holes to avert the horrific scene before them. Ishida wrinkled his nose and frowned; one of them had soiled himself.

"Get up you maggot brains! I want that assassin alive, NOW!" as if Ishida's powerful and intimidating shout was not enough, he added a snarl followed by a deafening stomp as he pointed to the door. The other ninja did not have to be asked twice to leave; in fact, the second that Ishida had spoken they bolted.

Ishida turned his head back to the sight of the slaughter he had left in the inn, the only thing that had caused him to smile all evening. With a hidden smirk he turned on his heels and lumbered slowly but silently out of the inn with the scent of blood trailing behind him.


	3. The Calm before the Storm

**The Calm before the Storm**

"This one must apologize, Hayashi-Dono," Yoshikuni began, "We were not able to gather the herbs for tea."

Hayashi would chuckle lightly, shaking her head at the man who was hanging slightly off of her shoulders. He had been wounded in the back by the flying debris that had behaved much like shrapnel from an exploding grenade would have. She looked to Yoshikuni and smiled one of her sweet, innocent smiles that came to her as naturally as breathing did to another. "Silly boy … You could have gotten seriously hurt!" she said, even though she was attempting to sound cross with him, it never actually came out like that. To be truthful, she found it more than difficult to be angry with this man. She let out a soft sigh and shook her head, picking up her walking pace a little bit. "Come, we are almost at my house, there, my mother will treat your wounds."

In a little less than five minute's time, the couple had arrived at the Anrui residence. The home was more than outstanding; even just the size of the home was enough to catch anyone's eye. Hayashi came from quite a wealthy family, her parents having served the Shogunate in the days of the old order which had obviously had its perks. Even though the old order and the Shogunate were the enemies of Yoshikuni back in the time of the Bakumatsu, there was no need to cause conflict between anyone now. The only thing that would cause Yoshikuni to draw his blade was the oppression of freedom in any form, whether it be Shogunate revivers or otherwise. The house also had a very nice garden; a small spring ran into a koi fish pond over by the far left-hand side of the house. Beside the pond there was a well-sized statue of the Buddha in his typical sitting position, a wide and bliss-filled grin painted across his chiseled, granite features. The grass was a lush and verdant green; flowers bloomed fully on the opposite side of the yard, next to a beautiful cherry blossom tree that stood just as tall as the highest point of the houses rooftop. Beneath it was a maple swing that was made to seat up to three people comfortably. The gentle descent of the pink petals from their majestic and peaceful host always grabbed Yoshikuni's attention. He was never truly certain as to why these leaves of a blushing complexion always managed to grab hold of his gaze, but there was indeed one thing he was most certain of; he was absolutely certain that these petals could rival the beauty of even the most beautiful of all the world's creations. They were the true example of perfection in Yoshikuni's eyes.

His admiration of Hayashi's house was disrupted by the near-shrieking sound that her mother made when she noticed the bloody and tattered back of his clothing. She cursed under her breath, shaking her head as she marched over to Yoshikuni. He had to be honest, at this point; Hayashi's mother was slightly more frightening than the enemy that he had faced in the glade earlier this morning. His smile was faint and nervous from beneath his hood as Hayashi's mother stopped not half a foot away from him, her gaze piercing through the veil of his cowl like the sharpened edge of a katana. Yoshikuni glanced sideways to Hayashi, his eyes pleading for her to help him but all she did was shake her smiling face with a gentle and soft giggle. 'Excellent,' he thought to himself, 'I will die at the hands of a demon in human form.'

"Look at you, Hatsuhara! What kind of danger did you put my daughter in this time?" she demanded, her very words like lethal venom.

Yoshikuni winced at the impact of her words against his ears. He sighed gently and stood up straight, his eyes sheathed beneath the shadows cast over his face by his hood.

"This one apologizes, Anrui-San, there was never an intention to make you worry." He smiled as he spoke, trying his best to seem calm so that his head might remain on his shoulders, "This one was simply careless when reaching for an herb when he took a little tumble down the hill. There were some rocks hidden beneath the grass and that is the cause of this one's injuries."

Hayashi's mother snorted lightly, "And you really expect me to believe that excuse, Hatsuhara?" she folded her arms and scoffed, pointing to the open door of her home with a furrowed brow, "You're just hopeless … I don't know what my daughter see's in you but I digress. Come inside, lets clean up those wounds."

He would smile and bow his head, "You are very kind, Anrui-San. This one thanks you for your hospitality." He said, walking towards the house. As was Japanese custom, before entering the house, Yoshikuni removed his sandals. To not do so was considered extremely rude, especially to a family that one was familiar with. After making his way past the doorstep, he turned his head to look at Hayashi's mother, Anrui Miku.

"Where would you have this one seat himself for the treatment?" Yoshikuni inquired.

Miku sighed as she strode past Yoshikuni, beckoning with her hand for him to follow her, "Come," she began, "My sewing supplies are here. If you keep ruining that Hakama of yours, I'm going to run out of sewing supplies to continue fixing it!"

Yoshikuni chuckled and followed the woman into the general living area of the house, Hayashi close behind him. "This one shall be sure to keep that in mind from now on, Anrui-San." He said as he sat himself on the edge of the closest chair, his backside facing the chair adjacent to it so that Miku could observe the challenge that awaited her this time. She would nod and grunt under her breath for a few moments, her eyes running up and down the back of Yoshikuni before she waved to Hayashi.

Hayashi nodded and moved beside Yoshikuni, "Please, Yoshi-San … Will you stand so that I can remove your top? Mother needs it now." She smiled at him, a soft giggle springing from her gentle, smooth lips.

Yoshikuni nodded and smiled at her, "Of course." He stood and removed his sword from his belt, placing it neatly on the floorboards. He then spread out his arms horizontally, allowing Hayashi to remove the sash easier. She undid its bindings slowly and gently, humming the entire time. She was almost always happy, even though she had lived through the era of bloody rain just as Yoshikuni had. It was always amazing to him how such an evil and horrifying experience did not have an effect on her daily behaviour or her personality. He was beginning to delve deep into these thoughts until the soft touch of a finger on his right shoulder brought his attention back to the current situation.

Yoshikuni blinked and looked over his shoulder to the source of the tapping. Hayashi smiled and pointed to his hood, "It appears to be attached to the Hakama. You don't mind do you?"

He would smile and shake his head, "This one does not mind in the slightest." He lifted his hands to his face, gently tugging on the smooth, white and red fabric, pulling it off of his pale-skinned face. He nodded to her and returned his gaze forward. His hair was hardly ever outside of the cover of his hood, but now that it hung against the side of his face, it gave his appearance a different attribute. Some that he knew even went as far as to say that he looked more mysterious without his veil over his expression. In replacement of his hood, it was the semi-long strands of midnight-black hair that shrouded part of his features. He lowered his arms as he felt the Hakama slip off of his frame, turning to look at Hayashi's mother. She nodded and said nothing, placing a threading needle in her mouth, her hands busy smoothing out his robe on her lap. He was not entirely sure what the nodding of her head was supposed to mean, but he figured that Hayashi understood better than he did for as her mother gave the curt nod of her head, Hayashi gently grabbed Yoshikuni's arm and led him into another room.

Yoshikuni looked around the new room of the house, seeing a wide variety of medicinal herbs and vials that contained many different colored liquids. He was able to surmise now that this was the room of Hayashi's father. Her father, Anrui Takumi, was not only a very well-known swordsman from the Bakumatsu, but he was also known for his dread-fascination with medicine. Thus, on his spare time and in the present years of his life, rather than swinging a blade, Anrui Takumi focused on medicinal practice and helping to save lives without shedding blood. For this, Yoshikuni admired him greatly. Where Hayashi's father was able to save lives without wasting lives, all that Yoshikuni knew how to do was how to save lives by destroying others.

"Please, sit." Hayashi said with an earnest smile. Yoshikuni nodded, his thoughts getting the better of his attention-span yet again. He moved in a fluid set of motions towards a table of sorts that Yoshikuni assumed was for patients that would be tended to by the good Takumi. Hayashi reached around to the counter behind her, finding the bucket that she must have filled with water while Yoshikuni was out to lunch with his thoughts. She pulled a sponge from the bucket and squeezed it gently causing hot water and steam to flow from the pool of water inside. She moved around to Yoshikuni's posterior, pressing the exfoliator against his back with a gentle and tender type of care. She cleaned off the dried blood that had caked on his skin, making sure that the wounds would be clean for her to treat them. She finished scrubbing his back and put the water bucket back on the counter along with the sponge, looking through the different medical utensils, searching for the stitching materials.

Yoshikuni suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that hung in the air so thickly, "This one forgot to thank Hayashi-Dono for what she and her family are doing for him." He smiled and looked at her from beneath his hanging hair that partially covered his deep brown eyes.

Hayashi chuckled and looked over her shoulder, eyeing him with a perked brow and a smile that he rarely saw upon her face. "Yoshikuni-San wouldn't have to be thanking me or my family," she paused, returning to her position behind him, all of her materials laid out on the free part of the table that he was sitting on. She pulled up a stool and sat herself atop it, continuing her sentence, "If he was more cautious and not so foolish." He could not help but chuckle at her, his head nodding slowly in agreement. "Hayashi-Dono speaks the truth."

Nothing was said between the two of them for the rest of the time Hayashi spent tending to Yoshikuni's injuries. It was not that long before she had sewn the last stitch into his newly mended flesh, her beautiful smile evident on her lips as she nodded proudly. "There you go, Yoshikuni-San." She said with a slight giggle, "All better. You can't even tell that you got hurt!" he found her enthusiasm and gleeful mood refreshing. With a gentle hop he landed back on the floor, making not even the slightest sound upon impact. He turned to her and formally bowed his torso as well as his head, "This one is in your debt, Hayashi-Dono."

It was at this time that she felt a tingling warmth creep over both of her cheeks, "Don't be so silly, Yoshikuni-San." She chuckled nervously and turned her gaze away with a shy smile, her cheeks flushed and pink like the falling cherry blossom leaves in her yard. "We would never turn you away."

He smiled and nodded, making his way to the door, stopping just before he went through it. He turned and looked to her again, his smile still on his pale lips, "Perhaps we may return to the glade in a few days to gather the herbs?"

Hayashi gave a nod, her cheeks lighter in complexion but still showing the slight blush from his earlier formality. "That sounds lovely. Please, do take care." She bowed her head to him as he made his way to the living room. To no surprise, Hayashi's mother had mended his tunic in record time. He picked it off of the chair, pulled it over his shoulders and fastened the loop which kept his robes tight against his frame. Just as he had finished pulling the hood back on the top of his head, Miku had entered the room again. She nodded to him and smiled which made him hopeful that she was no longer so cross with him. He bowed to her in return and picked his sword up from the ground, placing it on his left hip. He felt naked without his sword and when he returned it to its rightful place he sighed in relief. He turned to face Miku with an appreciative smile.

"This one wants to thank you for all you have done for him, Anrui-San." He bowed to her once more, physically showing his appreciation and respect. She nodded and gave him a bow of her head.

"No need to apologize, Hatsuhara, just don't go and do something that will get you killed." She said with a soft chuckle. "We would miss you far too much. Even if you are a pain to take care of." She laughed this time and waved him off, "Go, I am sure you have many important things to do besides listening to an old badger like me." He smiled at her and bowed his head once more before turning to walk out of the structure. He made his way outside and once he was on the streets he glanced up into the mid-afternoon sky. 'It must be close to four by now.' He said silently within his head. He continued to stare at the expanse of cloudless sky for a few moments before turning to follow the road out of Kyoto.

He wandered through the streets of Kyoto, following one of the many escape paths that he knew in the magnificent city. He made a distinct point of avoiding any main streets or any streets that belonged to the inner part of the city. This city was at peace for now, but if his suspicions were correct, then there was a storm on the horizon. The man that he had fought earlier this morning was the cause of his suspicion; the man was unlike any foe he had ever seen before, and more disturbing than the lack of knowledge, was the fact that the man knew who Yoshikuni was. That was cause enough for a red flag. He was now at the edge of the city, the familiar main road that led into the forest that had been his entire life from the day that he had first held a sword in his hand. He smiled at the familiar sight, taking a step forward as he began to make his way back home for the day. The sweet smell of maple and oak trees filled his nostrils as he neared the forests edge. As his foot found the soil that marked the beginning of the forest's edge, Yoshikuni found himself speaking aloud, but only loud enough for him to hear. "It is good to be home." Anyone who might have been watching from afar inside of the walls of Kyoto would watch him wander into the depths of the forest before melding into its distant view, becoming invisible to the eyes of the potential watcher(s).


End file.
